The music that moves me

Music has always been a big part of my life. I don't think there has ever been a church production I didn't have a solo in. I sang my way through high school and even started out as a music minor in college. But, it hasn't been until now that I am truly realizing the power and healing that can come through music.

As I walk this scary road with my mother I have been particularly moved by music. The melodies and words wash over me as if to apply a healing salve to my hurting heart. A few songs in particular have inspired hope and faith in me in these trying times.

You never let go (by Matt Redman)

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Your perfect love is casting out fear
And even when I'm caught in the middle of the storms of this life
I won't turn back
I know you are near

And I will fear no evil
For my God is with me
And if my God is with me
Whom then shall I fear?
Whom then shall I fear?

(Chorus:)
Oh no, You never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go
In every high and every low
Oh no, You never let go
Lord, You never let go of me

And I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
A glorious light beyond all compare
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
We'll live to know You here on the earth

(Chorus)

Yes, I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
Still I will praise You, still I will praise You


The part I wrote in black is the part that really speaks to my heart. When I sing it I can't help but lift my heart and my hands to the Lord and rejoice that someday this pain will be gone. Someday I will see my mom healed (whether on earth or in heaven). But, as I wait for that day I will continue to praise the Lord and seek His face. Another song that moves me is:

Blessed be your name (by Matt Redman)
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name

Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name

This song reminds me that God can do anything. He can give, and he can take away. He can bless, and he can curse. It is his right to do as he sees fit. It is my job to respond to him with awe, respect, obedience, and worship. Even when it's hard and my heart is heavy. That is what is meant by, "a sacrifice of praise." I think God is honored by all praise, but I think there is a special place in his heart for the praise flowing from those who are hurting.

I am grateful for music and it's ministry in my life. I am curious....what music moves you???

the first, but not the last (I'm sure)

Tonight was a rough night in the Hollis house. First of all, it's Wednesday so Rayden doesn't come home from work until about 10 pm. So, I'm on my own with the kids after preschool. I played with them, fed them, bathed them, and put them to bed. Only tonight, one of them went to bed at 6:45.

Kaleb. That sweet, energetic child. He had a rough night. A night filled with poor choices all stemming from his mouth.

Dinnertime was fraught with lies. From how many chicken nuggets he has eaten (139 was his claim) to how many he had left on his plate (as if the rest of us don't know how to count correctly). It may not seem like a HUGE deal....I mean, they're just chicken nuggets after all. But, my eldest child has developed a bit of a problem with the truth. We are working hard to teach him that his lips should speak truth at all times....even if we are just talking about processed poultry.

Then it was bath time. The normal giggles I hear coming from the tub were there. Only the source of the laughter was my 5 year old son shouting potty words and dancing like a maniac. What is it with little boys obsessions with body parts and the things that come out of them. If I had a dime for every time I heard the words booger, poopy, penis, butt, and booty I would be able to retire. And retire well, I might add.

Finally, we are in our jammies and getting ready to put together some puzzles. Kaleb goes to the closet to retrieve his puzzle when his sister (how dare she....being a one year old and all) tries to close the door on him. He shouts out, "you ugly baby." Okay. That was the straw that broke the camel's back....well, actually it was the words that broke my patience. He. was. in. trouble.

I announced to the little two..."get in the living room and watch tv." The instructions to the eldest were quite different, "brush your teeth and get to bed."

Let's just say he was less than pleased. He screamed, flailed, moaned, and cried. He begged, dealed, pleaded, and apologized. But, the die had been cast. I explained to him that he must use his tongue for praise and for kindness. And when he makes that many bad choices in such a short amount of time it clues me in as to how tired he must be. I also reminded him that God has given mommies the job of providing consequences for bad choices so that we learn to love what is right. None of that seemed to ease his mind.

As I went back out to play with the little ones I heard the most gut wrenching cries and wails. It was as if someone was in there beating him repeatedly with the world's largest sad spoon.

And then I heard it. The words I knew were coming someday. It was as if the world stopped spinning and everything around me became fuzzy as I heard my oldest child scream out, "I DON"T LIKE MY MOMMY." over and over again.

I fought back the tears and cracked open the door. I asked him why he was saying such hurtful things. He told me it was because I was "being bad to him" and hurting his feelings by sending him to bed early. I didn't have a big lecture in me. I couldn't bring myself to spank or scold. I just told him to come down and hug me. As I held him I explained that I loved him and that I have to do what God wants me to do. And then I sent him back to bed.

I know this isn't the last time he will say something that will wound me. The Lord knows, I must have hurt my parents a million times over. The peace I found tonight was that I didn't give in. I won the battle. I did what I believe God wanted me to do....provide logical consequences and teach Biblical truth. But, my heart hurts at those words.

I guess it becomes even more real to me that the tongue holds in it the power to breath life or death. The tongue is a weapon. We MUST learn to use it to love, edify, encourage, and praise. We MUST learn to speak truth....no matter the cost.

Please pray for my sweet Kaleb. Pray that he will learn these lessons. Pray that the consequences for him in life might only be as great as they must be to draw him near to our Savior. And, on another note, if you have any ideas about how to teach about truth, potty talk, and name calling....I am all ears!

CRAP!

"Crap"

That's what my youngest brother's text read as he responded to the outcome of yesterday's hospital visit. And I must say, I concur completely.

Let me back up and fill you in. Yesterday morning I took my mom (along with my good friend and pediatrician Stephanie) to the Med hoping to get some help. She had called us at 6am with some more serious delusions. She thought she was in jail and that her baby sister was with her. In reality, she was in her apartment and her sister was in Pennsylvania.

In the emergency room we had to disappoint the whole crew by informing them that she has no health insurance. Man, life would look different right now if my mom just had some blasted health insurance! Anyway, they did a whole host of blood work and also a head CT.

I don't know if this is right or wrong, but my heart so desperately wanted something to show up on her head CT. Maybe it would make some sense out of all of this. Maybe then our treatment options would improve. Maybe then I wouldn't have to fear all of this being genetic. Whatever the case, I was hoping for a brain tumor, brain cancer, or something. Mental illness just seems so scary and uncertain. But, regardless of what I hoped for, her labs and CT came back normal.

CRAP.

So it looks as though we are staring into the face of some sort of mental illness. Her psychiatrist says it could be an A-typical case of schizophrenia. The psych consult at the hospital yesterday said it might be early onset dementia. This is why I hate mental illness....they just have to guess. There is no blood test to confirm their findings. You just make your most educated guess and hope you're right. I hate that.

Fast forward to her discharge. They sent her home and told us to follow up with case management (an organization that I was told would help us get some mental health insurance coverage and help us get mom into a long term care facility). So, we left the hospital and took her home. Upon arriving at my mom's apartment I discovered that all the medicine (about 5 days worth) that I had given to her was gone. I think she sleeps in about 3 hour increments and every time she wakes up she thinks it is a new day. No wonder she was so out of it! She had taken 5 days worth of Inderol and Respritol in just 2 days.

I have now taken all her medication and will be driving it over to her house as she needs it. You may be wondering why I don't just let her stay at my house. Well, to answer that I need to tell you that last week she heard a voice in her head telling her to go and get a kitchen knife and cut her wrists. While I KNOW that in her right mind my mother would NEVER hurt herself, me, or my children....I also know that my mother is not in her right mind. I can not risk her hearing another voice like that....or her hearing a voice telling her to hurt my kids. So, she is staying at her house (without any knives or medication) and I will drive her over food and medication 3 times a day. Highly inconvenient....YES! Safe for my kids.....another YES!

I will be working to try and get her some sort of mental health insurance coverage and also keep pestering the government about her disability coverage. I will also be getting my mom to sign a power of attorney form in the next day or so. Finally, I will begin to research assisted living homes where my mom could get help from professionals around the clock.

I'm not very smart in regards to insurance and money. I lack knowledge about mental illness. I am doing as much research as I can. I am trying my best, but this is becoming to big for me. I refuse to let my kids suffer because of this. They, along with Rayden, are my #1 priority. They have to be. I left my family to cleave to my husband. God entrusted my kids to my care. In the same breath, however, I say that I will NOT abandon my mother. But, I am praying for wisdom, guidance, and a solution to this seemingly increasing problem.

Please pray that God would make a way for her to get the help she needs. Please pray that God will give me and my family the strength to navigate this scary waters. Please pray that at the end of this I will look more like Jesus. Please pray that this situation would draw others near to God. Please pray that my children would learn a heart of compassion and service through this. Please pray for a miracle!

Red, White, and Beautiful

Look at these beautiful angels.....

You cannot be quenched if you never drink

Lately I have felt dry. Not so much in regards to my actual physical thirst, but in my spiritual life. I think we all go through times like these. Seasons when life beats us down, we seem to disconnect from the Lord, and our passion seems to wane. That is where I would say I was about 2 weeks ago.

I was sitting in church listening to the message and I began to hear the Lord speak to me. (Crazy, right....God actually speaking to His people IN church!) I allowed my mind to drift from what Joe was saying...I didn't think he would mind. Surely our pastor would like to take a back seat to the voice of the Lord, right. I thought so too!

I felt like God was posing me this question...."What's wrong?" Almost like when he was confronting Adam and Eve in the garden after they had sinned. He certainly knew where they were....and he certainly knew what was wrong with me, but he also knew it was to MY benefit that I share it with him. So, I laid out for him my sad state of affairs. Boo Hoo for me....I have to care for my mother all by myself, we have buried 4 of our grandparents this year, my boys pick at each other all day long, money is tight....blah, blah, blah. I had quite a list for the Lord. Then I felt him say again...only more emphatically, "what's wrong?"

I could sense this time that the question had very little to do with the circumstances of my life and everything to do with the condition of my heart. So, I confession my arid condition. I was much more like a desert than an ocean in terms of spiritual passion. My flames were barely flickering.

I decided to pose my own question to the Lord. So boldly I asked, "why do I feel so dry?"

His response came swiftly. "you are parched"

"I know that Lord...I have confessed my dryness to you...but, WHY am I feeling this way?"

And in the way only God can He said (SO CLEARLY I might add)..."You can not be quenched if you never come to the well to drink."

OUCH.

Lightbulbs going off. Confession being made. Repentance taking place. I had been neglecting my own personal time with the Lord. In a gentle, yet direct, way God was reminding me that I NEED Him. A personal quiet time is not a project that must be done in order for me to remain on the "best Christian woman" charts. It is a means to meet with the creator of the Universe....the lover of my soul. Drinking for the well on Sundays is not enough....I need His presence and his power daily. My old youth pastor would say, "you wouldn't just eat one giant meal on Sunday and then not eat again the rest of the week, would you?" But isn't that what we do with God. We pull up to the table on SUnday (when the meal has been prepared for us) and then we neglect to satify our spiritual hunger when it's up to us to prepare the feast.

This will no longer be my story. I am committed to personal time with God. Not because it's a standard Christian discipline....but because I need it to survive. I am humble enough to know that I am NOTHING without the power and presence of God in me. I am no good. It is only the Lord in me that can accomplish anything. It is only by hearing his voice and entering his presence that my life makes any sense at all.

The Lord confirmed this in my life at the women's dinner earlier this week. A sweet friend and mentor in my life, Debbie DUnlap, shared her story with us. She talked about how sweet it is to talk to God. Although she talks about prayer a bit differently that most people I know. To her, prayer is a true conversation. Moments of talking, moments of listening, and moments of quiet reflection. I LOVE that! She reminded me that God is speaking....if I will but quiet myself I will hear him.

May I forever remain near to God...ever in His presence and witnessing his power.

Happy Birthday America!

Rayden and the kids went to visit his folks last weekend. But, because Rayden was preaching at church on the 5th they came home on the evening of the 4th. Just in time for some celebrating! We all went swimming and then got in our jammies. Aubri went to bed (she is terrified of fireworks....like clutch your neck so hard you get claw marks-scared) and Grandma, the boys, Rayden and I went to the driveway to create a small fireworks show of our own. I had gone to a small fireworks store in Lakeland and purchased 18 dollars worth of fun.

I got my money's worth.

We had a blast. The boys took turns lighting fireworks out of an old vase (supervised of course) and we all had fun with poppers and sparklers. We also bought these things called snakes (which Nathan LOVED). They pretty much just ooze out ash in the form of a snake. If you ask me, a more appropriate name would be "turds." They were so nasty looking....which apparently thrills the heart of my 4 year old. Not terribly surprising, I must say.

I am thankful for the 4th of July. I am grateful for holidays that have traditions and special moments with family. But, mostly I am thankful for the freedom we celebrate on that day. I am grateful that, for whatever reason, God saw fit to choose this time and this place for me. What a privilege it is for me to live in a country where I am free to worship my God boldly and without persecution. I first belong to my God....but after that I am proud to belong to my country. May God bless America and may America bless God!

Better late than never

The first week of June was our church's VBS. It is definitely one of my favorite weeks out of the year. This year's theme was Crocodile Dock and it dealt with overcoming fear. The kids studied various stories involving Moses and how knowing who God is and what he can do releases you from being captive to fear. What an important lesson to learn in life!

I helped to plan VBS by facilitating the preschool portion of the week and also by leading worship and being a part of the opening drama. Rayden also played an important role in the week's activities. He was Skeeter in the drama, a backwoods bayou bubba and then he also ran a station called Chadder's Theatre.

Vacation Bible School always inspires me because you get to watch childlike faith up close. You get to see inhibited worship....these little ones have yet to discover insecurity over people watching them as they dance and sing before the Lord. You also get to see adults serving faithfully and immediately seeing the fruit of their labor. Who doesn't love to watch a child worship, listen to sweet voices pray, and see "light bulbs" go off when a child realizes all that God has done for them.

It is my prayer that each day my children would love to God in wonder and amazement of what he might teach them that day. And I also pray that I would serve Him as fervently, tirelessly, and passionately each day as I do at VBS.